We Can Never Be Born Enough.

Spring Is Like A Perhaps Hand

Because You Aren't Afraid To Kiss The Dirt (and Consequently Dare To Climb The Sky)

Meanwhile Myself Et Cetera Lay Quietly In The Deep Mud Et Cetera (dreaming, Et Cetera, Of Your Smile Eyes Knees And Of Your Etcetera.)

Love Is The Voice Under All Silences, The Hope Which Has No Opposite In Fear; The Strength So Strong Mere Force Is Feebleness: The Truth More First Than Sun, More Last Than Star.

Love Is The Whole And More Than All.